Life Saving Bullet
by Music.Junkie98
Summary: Can a bullet save a life? Depends on who shoots it. The death of Ken Castle saved many lives, but could cost 5 other lives. In this instance, a bullet can solve everything, but in an abstract way.
1. Chapter 1

Wow. First fanfiction in like, forever. I completely forgot about this site for an entire year, which is strange considering this place used to be my life.

**Anyways, due to my recent, and short-lived obsession with Logan Lerman, I have become addicted to Gamer, and since there are few stories on here for Gamer (which is stupid, considering this awesome movie has only 22, and freaking Twilight has 165,157 as of November the 6****th****, and most likely by November the 7****th**** will have gained another 10,000) and for the fact that there are no really badass female characters in Gamer, I had taken it upon myself to make a total ass-kicking chick. **

**And, obviously, it has to have Simon's perverted-ness :D **

**First things first, IN NO WAY AM I MAKING A PROFIT OFF THIS. I HAVE NO OWNERSHIP OVER GAMER, OR ANY OF IT'S CHARACTERS. I ALSO OWN NONE OF THE REVENUES VISITED IN THIS STORY, PRODUCTS, OR TELEVISION SHOWS!**

**And, now, THE SHOW SHALL BEGIN!**

Chapter One: Bullet

The speedometer needle crescendoed slowly, as the melody of whipping wind, accompanied by the harmony of wheels on asphalt reached my ears. The long desert road stretched ever onward, on a winding path that seemed to reach the sky. Few people drove along this way, in the middle of the desert, alone, and helpless.

I laughed to myself. Maybe that's why I was drawn to deserts-I was often alone. However, I am not so helpless, and that allowed me to conquer the hellish environment.

Hands light on the steering wheel, I felt the motorcycle accelerate. I loved the feel of power, and shook at the adrenaline of knowing that if I made one little mistake, the speeding car, now at 180 miles per hour, would veer off the road, the bike would crash, and then I would hope I'd died because walking through the desert on little to no water is_ not_ fun. Trust me-I say this from personal experience.

However, there was no way I'd loose control. I never have, and never will. Any other person, from the outside, would see just some stupid, ignorant teen speeding like a madwoman, about to get into the accident of her short life, and get their keys taken away for a week.

I saw myself as being unwaveringly calm, focused, and determined, but that's mainly because I enjoyed wondering how 'awesome' I looked at that moment, and how much I knew, and could do, and would do, but 1, I was just cocky and high-strung, and 2, just an 18-year-old, despite what had occurred in my past years.

Simply put, I'm like every teenager out there.

The only difference was I had a deadline-and when I say 'deadline' I mean, if I don't reach that deadline, someone is actually going to die. Normally, I wouldn't give a damn about one person's life, but I care about mine, and if I don't get this job done, I would be the dead one.

Good thing they paid me a lot. Money always keeps me in check, aside from my life, but it's always on the line, anyway, so I guess it's not that much of a value. My… temporary employers (which is probably the kindest word for them) don't really care about my life, so I should not worry so much about mine. Only when I'm not working for anyone else I begin to think about my well-being.

I often compare myself to a single bullet-deadly, precise, but after it's shot, is useless. The people that hire me are the guns-they use me for a period of time to get the job done, but don't care about what happens to the bullet afterward. It also comforts me to think that the guilt is on them, that they pulled the trigger, and that my only crime was colliding.

I had a humorous image of a ninja driving the car in my place. I chuckled. A ninja? Close to it. I blend in with the darkness of the real world. But, no, I prefer to think of myself as a mercenary instead of an assassin, because sometimes I didn't just kill. I did bigger jobs.

Besides, an assassin was born to kill. I was born just to be born, to be a single person in life, to do what I could, and pass peacefully. Sadly, that didn't happen.

After a pang of anger, I pushed my past away to the hidden dark corners I had created in my mind, and focused on the job ahead. Apparently, some rich kid was about to get shot by some crazy people that probably hated the rich kid's parents, and thought the best and most predictable course of action was to kill their son. When they first explained this all to me, I was laughing my ass off, unable to stutter out 'no' between tears of humor. Then they told me how much they would pay me.

A quarter of a million. What do you think I said?

"_**HELL YEAH!" **__I yelled. "Where is this rich kid?" _

"_Caesar's Palace, in Las Vegas." The man in the black suit said. That's all I knew him as. The guy in the black suit. "Try to get there in 3 days. And don't take a plane." _

"_Why not?" I hissed. _

"_They might have figured out about you." _

"_Who? Who's 'they'?" I demanded. _

"_Lots of people wanted 'Society' and 'Slayers' to go on, shockingly. By now, I would assume they are at least half the size of the Mafia, and twice as insane." He estimated. _

"_Whoa. Wait. If this is going to have long-term effects on me, I'm out." _

"_Don't worry. We're taking care of them." He assured me. _

"_Ok, you better, 'cuz if you don't, I'll take care of you." I threatened. _

After my brief flashback, I returned my focus. Caesars Palace, and I had one more day. I had been driving for two days straight from New Orleans. I had one more day to prepare. If only they told me the name of this kid. Black hair, blue eyes, rich. I clenched my jaw. There's plenty of black-haired, blue-eyed, rich kids in the world.

Oh, whatever. I'll figure it out as I go.

Thankfully, this was the road straight to Las Vegas. I had been through there before, and knew my way area, at least enough to not wander in the bad parts of town. I can handle all of them, but it's a waste of time, really.

About an hour or so later, I was on the way to my room in the luxurious Caeser's Palace. Hey, when you don't have a home to pay rent on, or a family to care of, you have a lot of money left over, and I'll have even more when I get my $250,000.

That thought alone made me giddy. Just imagining all that money…just the look of it, the feel of it, the sheer mass of it…I really _really _like money.

After admiring the room (which probably had better furnishings and was higher quality then a regular home) and taking a shower, I spread out on the bed, and flicked on the TV to watch the news. After a hour of endless political drabble, I fell asleep to the sounds of Las Vegas.

"_Are you positive, Ms. Harte?" he asked. It didn't sound true-if she said 'no' he would still take the child. With tears in her eyes, the mother at the end of her line said 'yes' knowing that he would take her child away. _

"_Mom?" the child whimpered. Her light green eyes rimmed with tears, matching her mother's slightly darker ones. _

"_I'm so sorry, honey. I'm so sorry." She pulled her child into a hug, who at only 7, was going to save her entire family's life. "Be a big girl for Mommy. Please." She looked dead into her eyes. "Be strong for me. You're going to live a better life then you would with us. And, one day, you'll help Mommy, and Daddy, and Sissy survive." She kissed her on the cheek. "Know that I love you. Aydan Harte, always remember that I love you." _

_The evil man grabbed Aydan's arm. She had already dubbed him as 'evil' just from the look deep in his snide dark brown eyes. "Mommy!" she cried out. _

"_Be strong for Mommy." Ms. Harte said, looking at her feet, tears rolling down her cheeks. _

I awoke with a groan. That damn dream again. I'm not even sure how many times I've had it. I guess it's happened to often for me to even think of it. Sometimes, I wished I had much more…interesting dreams, as the scene in my life had been played so many times, I could recite it.

I took a glance at the alarm clock-8 o'clock. After tiredness swooped in, I stumbled out of bed, and got dressed. Just as I pulled on a t-shirt (over a bullet-proof vest) I heard my cell phone ring.

"Yello." I answered, fiddling with my hair.

"Silverton." The voice replied.

"What?"

"Silverton. That's the kid's last name." I recognized his voice now. Black suit guy.

"Oh, good. I was about to search the entire U.S for black-haired blue-eyed kids." I hissed.

"Don't get snappy. You're paid to kill, not think."

"I beg to differ, as one much think to kill." I smirked. "Dude, the universal law of all working class people is what goes around, comes around. If you piss me off, I won't do the job so well. Our client might just die, and I'll call it an 'accident.' If you keep me happy, the kid will be licking my boots."

"Oh, get over yourself." He groaned.

"The only people who pay others to do the job for them are men are small dicks, and woman with big brains. I highly doubt you're a woman. Just pay me, and this'll be all over, and hopefully, I'll never speak to you again." I pressed the red button of freedom, glad to rid him of the pleasure of making me angry.

After brushing through my long, wavy blond hair, and outlining my lime green eyes with thick eyeliner, I was ready to go. I went to search for anyone with the last name 'Silverton.'

After bribing the front desk, I found out that Simon Silverton and his father were staying here, in celebration of his father's birthday, and that he saw Simon heading for the Apollo Pool. I put a hundred in his hand, and went to the pool.

Thankfully, I had brought a swimming suit (a one piece, black) and quickly changed into it. I had to blend in with the crowd, so to not be suspicious. There are some very, very paranoid people, and most have good reasons.

The pool was the first thing I noticed. It was long, and had intricate designs at the bottom. It looked very Apollo-y. It was lined with chaises, all empty except for a single one with a towel and rumpled t-shirt.

Wow. Completely alone. Stupid kid.

I put my small amount of belongings (a single handbag with some money and a gun in it) in a chair and dipped my feet into the water.

In the corner of my eye, I saw the famous Simon Silverton. I had heard of him for time-to-time, but I never really paid attention to the media. I had played 'Slayers' before though. It was badass. Screw Halo!

Hm. I had suspected a 12-year-old, but he looked in the 16 or 17-year-old range. I could see bright blue eyes from here. Not bad, not bad. I've seen better. Of course, he immediately swam over. Figures.

"Lonely?" I asked.

"Not anymore." I rolled my eyes.

"So, you're Simon Silverton." I narrowed my eyes. "Not near as impressive as everyone said you were." He completely ignored that. I could already tell he was obnoxious.

"And you are?" He put him arms on the edge of the pool, looking up at me. I scoffed. I never give out my real name.

"Andra Gray." I just said the first name that came to mind. My real name is Aydan Harte, but I wouldn't tell anyone I don't trust.

"Well, Andra, why are you alone?" he smirked.

"Why were you alone?" I retorted. "You did, after all, help kill Ken Castle. There's some people who would want to kill you." His eyebrows narrowed. I heard movement behind him. "Speaking of that…GET DOWN!" I hissed, sliding into the water, and pulling him under. I snuck a peak, and saw two men on the opposite side of the pool, with poorly concealed guns and a serious look in their eyes. Thankfully, their view of me was blocked by a chaise. I gave Simon a motion to stay were he was, and I slowly stalked to a hiding place.

I hide behind a spiral tree-hedge thing and cocked my gun. I waited for the exact moment of their approach.

One of the men was just on the other side of me. My arm shot out, grabbed his, and knocked the gun out of his hand, twisting his arm around his back to do so. He called out for his partner as I grabbed his head, and broke it with a quick jerk. He fell to the ground, and I picked up his gun, aimed for the other man, and shot.

I ran back over to the pool, grabbed Simon and my bag, and ran for the nearest exit.

After winding through various hotel walls, and ignoring gasps of shock and yells to stop, I reached my motorcycle. Simon was trying hard to keep up, as I was a pretty fast runner, but he was only a few steps behind me.

Without bothering to put on a helmet, I sped out of the parking lot, easily weaving between the clumsy cars. Simon was freaking out, probably thinking he was with an insane person, but I hoped he knew that those people were trying to kill him, and I was trying to save him. If he wasn't smart enough to notice that, then it was his loss.

Once we got out onto the streets, I noticed three black cars behind us. I increased my speed, and went through all red lights and stop signs. I ignored the police sirens, and outdrove them.

At the time, I was too focused to remember every little thing I did. My mind was set on getting out of the city, and into the desert. There, I could easily lose anyone. My movements were instinctive as I raced through traffic, and pushed the poor bike harder and faster every second.

"What the fuck is going on?" Simon hissed.

"I'll explain it later when we don't have cops and psychos on our tail!" I yelled.

"There already is a psycho! You!"

"Shut the fuck you, will you?" I commanded.

I kept driving until we came to a motel in a small town. I pulled in, just noticed the needle was almost on empty. I released a sigh of relief at the fact that there was no one following us.

"Will you please explain what's going on?" Simon demanded.

"Not here." I said stubbornly. He groaned. I shoved some money in his hand, and told him to get a room. "I need to get gas and some food. Go find a room." I commanded.

He went inside the motel, and I went over to the gas station across the street. As I was filling up, I saw a black car like the others I had seen. I cursed when I saw a man with a gun in his pocket come out.

I looked around for any witnesses. The only person that would see anything was the clerk inside the station. I tried to look inconspicous as I walked in.

"Hey, dude. You look like you could use some money." I said to him. He looked Hispanic, probably illegal, and probably willing to do anything for a good buck.

Eh. I have plenty of money to spare. I am getting a quarter of a million soon. I got a thousand from my last job.

I slid him a hundred. "You see that guy out there?" I pointed to the black car. "He wants to kill me and my…associate. I might just have to kill him. In return for this money, you keep your mouth shut." He nodded. "Oh, and here's the 20 for gas."

I walked out with the gun I stole from the other guy in my hand, hidden in a jacket, as I walked over to my bike. I heard a few whispers, and a cock of a gun.

I pivoted on my heal, and shot at the man right between the eyes. I used the brief shock of the kill to close in on the other two. They held their out their guns, and aimed for me. A millisecond after they shot, I duck down, and shot them right in the knees. They fell to the ground, and I walked over, and aimed my guns at their head.

"What do you want with Silverton?" I commanded. "And don't you dare lie, unless you want to end up like your friend." I tossed my head in the dead man's direction. "Start talking."

"We ain't never. You're gonna have to kill us." One said.

"Gladly." Two gunshots sounded through the small town. Thankfully, there was only an empty apartment complex and ratty looking store. They wouldn't say a word about me.

I raided the men's wallets, and used that money to buy some food. I said my thanks to clerk, and went back over to the motel. Simon was leaning against a door.

"You are completely fucking insane." He shook his head in shock.

"And you're completely fucked."

**ARGH! I've never been able to write gun fights. Oh, well. Don't worry. More information will be learned about Aydan in the next chapter, so she doesn't seem so weird.**

**There will probably be about 10 or 15 chapters, and not really Simon/OC, but there will be some. It won't last though (evil grin.) **

**PLEASE review, and don't just say 'GOOD-NESS' give me critque. I also accept ideas for this story, and others. **

**-Hannah**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Aren't I?

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" Simon begged as he tore into a bag of chips, sitting cross-legged on the flower-decorated bedspread.

"You know how you helped Kable kill Ken Castle?" he nodded. I took a long sip of an energy drink. "Some people want to kill you for that. They hired me to make for sure you don't die, until it's all resolved."

"That much I figured out. Tell me about you." He demanded. I sighed. I hated to do this, but oh well.

"Fine. But whatever I tell you…you cannot tell a soul." I warned. "If my name, or any sort of information got out, let's just say there's plenty of people that want me dead right now, and are still looking for me. If they figure out where I am or who I am, I will murder you, you understand?" he nodded, looking slightly nervous. "Ok. Good. My real name is Adyan Harte, not Audra Gray. I was born in Australia, in the Outback, in one of the very few communities. When I was 6, my mother, at the end of the line, with no money, and no home, sold me to a man that turned me into a killing machine. He brought me to America when I was 10, and I started doing mercenary jobs. Eventually, I broke away from the guy, and now I'm all alone." I explained. Of course, that wasn't even a fourth of my story, but it was dumbed down. I didn't feel like going into some long drawn-out thing.

"Wow." He shook his head in shock.

"Yep. I didn't have a perfect life like you." I shrugged. "Listen, dude, my only job is to keep you from dying for a while, until this whole thing is resolved. I don't know how long that will be, but don't try to get close. Chances are, this will be over in a few weeks, and we'll never speak again." I chuckled. "Hopefully."

"Wow. You'll really a bitch, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes, I am. Now, fuck off and go to sleep." I hissed.

"It's only 5:30."

"Well, do something besides speak to me." I grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV. I used the sound of Fox News to drown him out. He groaned, and fell back against the bed.

After a few minutes, he jumped upwards.

"What?" I said.

"We're going to be sleeping in the same bed, aren't we?" he didn't sound disappointed.

"Yea. So?" I shrugged. "I'm sorry I didn't have much choice with psychopaths chasing up. Next time, I promise candied grapes and silk sheets."

"I still enjoy the one bed." He smirked.

"That's the only thing you will enjoy." I retorted. He just chuckled, and turned back towards the TV, munching on Doritoes. I rolled my eyes, and pulled out of my few possessions-a book, a book called _'Graceling' _to be exact. I've read it a hundred times.

I turned to the front page, and began to read the words I had already memorized, and before I knew it, it was 10.

I brushed my teeth and put on an extra-long t-shirt and shorts that were both a deep gold. I've always loved the color. Simon was already in the bed, lights off, and ready to sleep. I crawled in, careful not to take up too much room. Of course, Simon moved closer, and turned in my direction.

"Simon, do you remember what I said?" I groaned.

"All I heard was blah, blah, bitch, blah, blah." He rolled his eyes. "But I did sense that you are lonely." He slowly slid his hand closer. "You don't have to be so lonely." I felt his hand on my back, and shivered. I never really had a boyfriend or even kissed a guy before, but I liked it as his hand snaked around my waist.

Then I regained my composure, and pushed his hand away. "Yes, I do. It's the life I live. I can't have any liabilities. Sorry. Go to sleep."

"I give up. You're too difficult." He groaned before turning over.

"Aren't I?"

The next morning, we awoke in silence. I took a quick shower, and packed up. We'd have to move on if we wanted to stay away from the people chasing up. I decided that we'd ride until 6, which would be about 6 hours, as it was 10 now, but then we'd make good enough distance. I decided the safest place for him would be in the Midwest, away from any big cities. Besides, some people still owe me favors. If worst comes to worst, I'll use those.

"Why can't we ride in a car?" Simon groaned.

"Because motorcycles are faster. Besides, if we rented a car, they could track us. In the next town we stop, we'll, err, borrow one." I shrugged. "I can just get rid of this thing. After this job, I'll be rich for quite a while."

"Why?" he asked.

"I'm getting a quarter of a million just for protecting you." I smiled. "If I get in trouble with the law, I could probably buy my way out of it."

"A quarter of a million?" he gasped. "Damn."

"Yep. Someone really wants you alive."

"Why so much?"

"I didn't ask." I answered. "We better get moving. We'll get breakfast in the next town." I threw him a helmet, got on the bike, and drove away.

Since it's a bit difficult to speak while on a motorcycle, we didn't talk much. He didn't even communicate until we stopped again. We had just gotten into Utah, and I planned on taking him to Montana. We were still quite a few days away. I planned that we would take a detour around Salt Lake City, go up Wyoming, and into Northern Montana. I knew someone there who would help me.

"How many days are we going to spend on that thing?" Simon groaned, kicking the side of the bike.

"First of all, don't kick my motorcycle-it's a piece of junk compared to what I will get, but still, it's a bike, and infinitely better then you. Secondly, if you don't complain so much, it'll go by much faster, and third, stop your bitching, because I'm getting a car here." I said as I walked to the front desk of the motel. This motel was just slightly better, looked cleaner, felt nicer, and had a golden glow, unlike the artificial dimness of the other one.

"Thanks for the rant." He rolled his eyes.

"You welcome." I sighed. I paid the motel owner, and went to the room. Again, we'd have to share a bed (all the others with two beds, which were only two other rooms, were occupied) but at least this bed with bigger.

"Sharing beds again?" Simon raised an eyebrow. "It seems as if you enjoy it."

"Don't go there, Silverton." I threatened. He held up in hands innocently.

Simon took a shower while I returned to my book. I had already gotten to page 100 in two nights, which would be impressive if I hadn't memorized it. I really need to get a new book. Oh, well. I'll be able to buy 50 new books with my money.

Simon returned with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair wet, and bead-lets of water going down his chest. I bit down on my lip, and stared only out of the corner of my eye. I might never want to get close to anyone, but that doesn't mean I can't admire the scenery. When he saw me looking, an evil smile crossed his face. I returned it, not really thinking about what I was doing.

"Like what you see?" he asked.

"What, did you think I was a lesbian or something? Of course I do." I've always been very secure with myself, probably because I always erased any record of me wherever I go. Whenever I leave a place, I sever all my ties and become a different person, so I don't try too hard to please someone. "Go put some clothes on, caveman." I scoffed. He laughed softly, grabbing clothes from a suitcase (which I had bought for him) and went back into the bathroom.

I quickly changed into something more comfortable (extra long t-shirt, like every night) and snuggled down into the covers. It was about 9:30, and a long days of driving takes a lot out of you. I smiled as I closed my eyes, but after a few minutes, Simon came out of the bathroom, and harsh light reached through my eyelids, and the smell of Axe drifted through the room.

"You're not really planning on sleeping, are you?" he smirked.

"At some point. I'm exhausted." I groaned. "But not too tired." I rolled over towards him.

"Good." He said. I found myself looking into his blue eyes just for a moment, and then I remembered, like a forgotten bruise that got punched. I wasn't supposed to get attached.

Oh, fuck it.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulled me closer, and pushing my hair away from my neck. His lips just barely brushed the tender skin before the world exploded.

**Ye be warned-there be many cliff-hangers awaitin' ye. **

**Argh :D **

**-Hannah **


	3. Chapter 3

I immediately sprung out of bed, reached for a gun, and aimed it at the door. The air was filled with splinters from the destroyed door. I heard heavy footsteps coming near. I signaled Simon to find cover quickly. He crouched beside the bed, away from view.

My heart thudded as they came into view. There was only two of them, but one had a grenade launcher (and I have no clue how he got his hands on that) and the other had a M16. I growled. I was nothing against military-grade weapons.

"Where is he?" the one with the M16 commanded. He looked rather strange, with an assault rifle in his hands, and a black suit. What the hell is with the black suits?

"Who?" I asked innocently. I was trying to stall them, until they let their guards down. "I am the only person in this room, expect for you two." I nudged Simon with my toe, reminding him that breathing heavy could give him away.

"We know who you're harboring!" the one with the grenade launcher hissed. "It would be a really good idea to just let us have him."

"Why do you want him, exactly?" I tilted my head to the side, eyes wide.

"You think we'll tell you that?" he rolled his eyes. "Look, we won't kill you if you just let us have him."

"Hmm. A tempting offer. Let me go free, while my client suffers? It would work, but my employers would kill me afterwards." I contemplated.

"So you admit you have Silverton." He said, pointing his gun at my head. I laughed.

"You seriously thought I didn't?" I tapped Simon with my foot, and pointed it at the wall behind us. He looked confused, but nodded. "Go on. Shoot me. Simon's safe from fire. Kill me and get it over with, and take your prey to whomever you answer to."

I had fine-tuned my senses for exactly this. I had a distinct plan in mind-it was a simple one, but it would work for now. As I was speaking, I grabbed a bag that had quite a few guns in it-small handguns, but powerful.

The man fired the grenade launcher, but I jumped to the side at the last second, and it went right through the wall into the outside. I while I was ducked under the bed, I realized that the walls were very weak-I could punch through the with ease. Besides that, there were no advantages. They were closing in with a grenade launcher and an M16, and I was dead if I didn't get out of here. Even if I got past these two, there would surely be more.

All these thoughts past in only a few milliseconds, and I jumped up with a machine pistol in hand, firing like mad at the two men. After a few bullets, they slumped to the ground. I picked up their firearms, and through the grenade launcher to Simon.

"Shoot when, where, and who I tell you to shoot." I commanded while grabbed the M16. I had never used a big gun like this, but I knew how to use it. To be a good mercenary, I had to be skilled at everything.

I ran out the destroyed door, and, as I suspected, I saw many other cars and other men in black holding guns. Thankfully, they didn't have grenade launchers and M16's, but a bunch of guns are still dangerous.

"Right the the middle of them all!" I yelled at Simon. They had gathered in a half-circle around the motel, but in the center was were they were most concentrated. They didn't even see us until the grenade landed, exploding.

I started firing sporadically, but there were still too many. We were flanked, and pretty much fucked.

"Simon, you know what we might have to do?" I yelled through the gunfire, ducking behind a wall.

"Surrender?" he groaned. I nodded.

"And fight our way out."

I walked out, arms in the air, M16 on the ground. They stopped fireing when Simon came into view. I grunted as I felt a blunt pain over my head, and blacked out.

Yep, this one's short, but if I added everything else, it would be too long. A little boring, but the next will be much better.

**-Hannah **


	4. Chapter 4

I awoke with the taste of blood in my mouth, and the feeling of rope binding my hands. My head pounded with a massive headache. I groaned. I had waken up in situations like this, and let me tell you, NOT pleasant.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" I heard Simon hiss.

"Maybe you shouldn't have helped Kable kill Ken Castle." I responded, eyes adjusting. I saw I was in a small room made from metal, tied to a chair, with Simon by my side. There was a single door at the other side of the room, probably locked from the outside.

"Remind me why we surrendered?" He demanded.

"Because, we would have died if we didn't." I answered.

"We're going to die here!"

"That isn't for sure." The door flew open, and in stalked a total cliche-a female in tight leather and sunglasses. She had long, black hair, bronze colored skin and a cat-like posture. I scoffed. I've dealt with chicks like her before. I was expecting her to have a German accent.

"It's for sure, Spit Fire." My breath hitched. I've heard that voice before…a smooth, perfect Australian accent. Spit Fire…there was one person who used to call me that. Damn it, why can't I remember anything?

"Don't remember me, my little flame?" She came closer, and pushed the hair out of my face. "Why, little Aydan doesn't remember her Kitty Kat?" she laughed. That laugh, the cruel, but exotic laugh…

I remember her.

"Namir Giti." I said, enunciating carefully. A smirk crossed her lips. She called herself 'Kitty' because her name meant 'swift cat' and called me 'Spit Fire' because Aydan meant 'spark.' She enjoyed nicknames, probably because if she used her real name, people would find her and kill her. We were the same on that level.

She was the closest thing I ever had to a sister, or even just a friend. She was bought into the trade just shortly after I; we quickly grew close. I couldn't say 'Namir' and she couldn't say 'Aydan' and we hardly understood what we said to each other, but we were inseparable, and remained that way until the age of 13, when she decided she wanted to be more tactical with her work, but I just wanted to kill. She wanted to seduce, I wanted to shoot. She wanted to bait, and I wanted to blow them up. She wanted to back stab, and I wanted bombs. We finally split up, eventually, but since we know too much about each other, and we've been at each others throats. "Kitty. You bitch." She chuckled.

"I beg to differ." She stalked closer, looming in front of my face. "A bitch is a female dog. I find you to be much more like a dog then I. I think of myself as a cat."

"You're a coward with a big ego." I hissed.

"Coward?" she scoffed. "Because I knew more then mindless killing, I'm a coward? Well, _Aydan, _who got captured? Not I." She turned away from me. "And what to do now that I've caught you in the middle of the mission? Even though I should kill you…" she sighed nostalgically. "You were my best friend, perhaps my only friend. I'm sure if we compromise, we could work together. You would be either a great assets, or an expendable, to use to my will…that is, if you agree."

"Why would I agree?" I rolled my eyes. "You probably know how much money I'll get for this mission."

"Exactly. I know every single detail. I also know that these nice men," she held out her arm to two burly guys with guns in black suits. "are the one who are trying to stop you." While she ranted dramatically, I was fumbling with the rope. I stifled a laugh. Poorly tied-I could get out of this…just that one knot…I cursed the fact that I didn't grow out my nails.

"They were arranged that if you were to give Simon to them, they would give you the money AND take care of anyone trying to get back at you for it. You'd be cut clean from this, with no ties, expect for the 250 grand, which you will then split 50/50 with me, which will amount to125 grand for both of us." She explained.

"And why would I split with you?" I was stalling…almost got that knot…

"Because I ensured your freedom, and spared your life." A-ha! Just come a little closer, bitch.

"Come closer, then. I only want you to hear this." She tucked her thick hair behind her ear, and leaned in. "Go to hell." I whispered in her ear. My arm shot out to punch her straight in the face, but I grabbed her body, and used it as a shield against the gunfire that followed. I then threw her body at the guards (making sure to grab the pocket knife I saw in her pocket) and ran over and cut Simon free with hands that moved like lightning.

After pouncing on the two guards, knocking their temples and shooting them, I ran out the room, into the long hallway.

I had to navigate quickly, knowing that they would send reinforcements, and I had to get out of there. I had no clue where this place was, but it would be in the middle of gunfire soon. I had to get out. Now.

I dragged a stunned Simon through long, narrow, hallways that were all a bleak, gray color. Kitty always had a thing with gray. It was the color of undetection, or so she said. I just found it the color of blandness.

I turned left, right, left, and right again, winding my way through mindlessly, without any clue where I was heading. I heard screams of 'Stop!' 'Hey!' and 'They're over there!' but they disappeared quickly in the chaos, and before I knew it, I was outside, on the top of a roof. I cursed to myself, and looked frantically for firearms.

"Great job, Aydan!" I yelled to myself. "Run through a building you have no clue about, go up stairs to a fucking roof where you'll be cornered and shot."

"Aydan, relax!" Simon hissed. "Look-where are we?" He looked over the edge. "Holy shit."

"What?" I groaned.

"Look." He demanded, pointing over the edge. "Desert. Endless desert." I cursed into the wind, screaming at the top of my lungs. "Simon, if we get out of this, I want you to kick my ass so hard…"

I heard the cock of a gun.

"I'll gladly do it." I grumbled at Kitty's voice. I turned to face her. She was at the other side of the roof, blood trickling down her leg that was half-way clothed in leather. She had a bad limp, but held the gun strongly pointed at me.

"Kitty, what happened to us?" I sighed. "We were best friends. Where did this get all out of hand? Because of a disagreement?"

"That shit only works in the movies, Aydan." She smoothly walked closer, like a jungle cat, injured by it's prey but still strong, and determined to get it's kill. "You talk to me some about the good ol' days, distract me, and then shoot me while I'm pondering you're great advice. You were always so predictable, but you could have been an amazing killer. Oh, well. I'll rid the world of one James Bond wannabe that the Earth won't miss." She fired the gun before I had a second to react, but I was pushed out of the way at the last second.

It came back into focus afterwards. I saw Simon, on the ground, blood starting to pool, and Kitty with a slightly annoyed, but still cocky face. I realized that he had pushed me out of the way, and got himself shot in doing it.

"You'll pay for that, bitch." I hissed, and charged.


	5. Chapter 5

Even though I don't think anyone's really reading this (0 reviews…I must suck) but I would still like to say that I might not be updating anytime VERY soon…I mean, soon, but not in like, two days. First, I have to march in a Christmas Parade (yep, band geek) then, I have a concert (also for Christmas) and I also have both English and Science projects, and my freaking English teachers makes us write an essay, like, every other day, so, pretty much, I'm screwed.

I do have a decent plot for this story-I also need someone's opinion…should I write a lemon? I'm kind of young, and don't really have experience writing sex scenes, and I could just censor it like crazy (similar to Twilight, which is sickening) but because of the tone of the story and the characters, it would be a little off so…I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!

-Hannah


	6. Chapter 6

**I've decided to start putting music along with my chapters, to enhance the mood. They have only music (no lyrics) and will hopefully make the reading more intense (or sweeter, or darker, or sexier, or sadder, or whatever)**

**www. youtube .com /watch?v=SLtbi3ZIabU**

My heart raced wildly. Sure, I had trained for situations like this, but it was all too real. Sometimes things seem much easier from a difference, but up-close, my brain was scattered and I had no clue what to do. My options were limited-cut my losses, go with Namir, and let them kill Simon, _pretend _to go with Namir, but make a bargain to save his life, kill Namir and face the deserts, or jump into the endless dunes and hope I die. It would be so much easier if there was more of an environment, but there was only sand. Maybe I could throw sand in her eyes and blind her. Hey, it's a start. I should hold onto that plan.

My breath stopped short when I saw the gun aimed at me. My eyes grew wide, and lead-heavy, painful fear coursed through me. The worst type of fear, when you're fearing for you life is painful, in her heart, your head, and your body. It hurts, more so then an injury I've ever sustained. I felt tears well in my eyes. I had gotten so far, and this is what I get. I covered my ass, saved lives, got favors, killed dangerous people, and scored a job in which I'd get set for life. And now…I get to die. I should have known it would happen eventually.

Hmm. Is this what all people I've killed felt more they die? First fear, and then a sarcastic _'fuck, it's all over._' Did once they reach this point decide it was impossible to try, and think, _'well, damn, maybe I should have tried harder?'_ Or did they try and fight it, and it was just I? Have I reached a point where I had come to terms with death? I suppose so. I didn't have much to live for, except Simon, who had become one of my few friends in the past couple days, who now was my only regret, just seconds before I died? By the look of the blood, he should be dead by now. I really hoped he was. It would be better for him to die by a painless gunshot, then turn out to be alive, and got tortured by Kitty who would demand he tell her where my money was, even though he'd have no way of knowing, as I have not told him. I didn't want to see me dead, or hear me die. If he was alive, then I was his only hope and my only liability. Sure, I could get myself away, jump off the side of the building and struggle through miles of desert. I could do that and have done it, but he had a gunshot wound, and was soft. He wouldn't survive.

All of this flashed through my mind in one second. I gave Kitty a evil smile, tempting her to bring it on. Right now, I didn't care if I lived or died. Simon was for sure dead, and his death would have been inevitable. The moment was too adrenaline-filled and quick for me to feel sadness. I had learned to not feel sadness, or any emotion in moments like this.

"Seems like you're at the end of the line, Spit Fire. Where's your flames now, my little spark? You were so full of them before. Has the death of your client finally put out your fire? Or has it only fed it?" she lowered the gun. "Aydan, my friend, I know you better then this. Right now, you should be doing some clever little thing. The Aydan I knew would have me dead by now. Have you gone soft?" she tilted her eyes towards Simon. "Is it him? Has he…enlightened you?" she chuckled. "I almost felt sorry as I killed him. A needless waste of life; he had such pretty eyes. Why don't you look at his eyes right now? They're either seas of pain or flat and glazed by now." I gritted my teeth. Now, I felt anger. Once the gun was gone, I had a fighting chance-a small chance, but still, a chance. I was ready to murder her with my bare hands. I wanted to tear her limbs from their sockets, and cut her with my nails after digging them into her eyes. I wanted to shove her ribs into her lungs. I wanted to bust her skull with my fist. I wanted to kick in her temples with my feet. And I would do all of these things to her, if I had the chance.

"Such a pretty face…" she trailed off, obviously taunting me. "It's very unprofessional to get feelings for a client, even if they are _extremely _handsome. He seems a little soft-too accustomed to city life, but I'm sure you can train him…" she was getting annoyed now. Her attempts to get a rise out of me failed.

"Do I sense jealously, Kitty?" I raised an eyebrow. "Jealous of me or jealous of him? Or over both of us? Do you wish you weren't a psychotic _bitch _and were capable of caring for someone? Or do you desire a normal life, without all this bloodshed?" I walked closer to face her head-on. I didn't like doing it, but I knew how. I could taunt her just as well as she could me. "Why'd you do it, Namir? You may win, but you would lose any amount of humanity you possessed. You'd be a hallow shell, good for killing, possibly to look at, but you wouldn't be human. You'd be emotionless and loveless and lonely. Admit it-you wouldn't want to kill me. I am your only friend. That's why you didn't shoot before, when you had the chance." She gave a slow, sarcastic clap.

"Well, well, Aydan. You're meaner then I thought. You truly have me at a loss for words. I thought you a mindless killing machine. Now, you're a killing machine with artificial intelligence." She pulled the gun back up. "The truth of why I didn't kill you was because I wanted to see you suffer." She kicked Simon over onto his back, forcing him to look up at me. "See his eyes? So pretty, so full of pain. He probably hates you know."

I bit down hard on my lip. His face was awash with terror in pain, paled and angry. Hurt tears mixed with blood went down his cheek, due to a cut below his eye. I saw a single gunshot wound on his shin. I expected for him to look up at me, and curse my name, but what I saw in his eyes…was hard to explain.

His eyes told me to run. He wanted me to get away, and leave him behind. They begged me to leave, to not get hurt. They were…caring.

"Ah." Kitty smiled grimly. "He isn't angry at you. But he is in pain. His bone is splintered. There's little bits and pieces of bone inside his skin. He's in horrible pain. In addition to that, there will be infection. His leg might have to amputated, if worse comes to worse, and that's saying he gets out of the Australian Outback. All of this…because of you." My heart sank. It was true. I knew what I had to do.

"Kitty. If I go with you…will you take care of Simon?"

"No." he grunted from the ground.

"Shut up." I hissed. "Kitty, please. I'll do anything. Take care of his leg. Take him to his family. You can do whatever you want to me."

"No." Simon said more insistently. His voice was gruff and raspy and demanding.

"Hmm. Tempting offer. But, no, I know you Aydan. You'll break out, kill me while I sleep, and somehow get through the desert. You're like a little enegrizer bunny. You just won't stop…" I felt Simon grab my leg.

"Listen." He choked.

I held my breath for a moment, and heard the rhythmic beating of helicopter wings. Apparently, Kitty didn't notice.

"My little Spit Fire…why can't we go with the original deal? We kill Simon, get the money, and everything's sugar and rainbows." She sighed. "I know why. Because you're a stubborn _bitch _who doesn't know how to cut her losses." She held the gun to my forehead. I could feel the cold metal.

I forced as much anger into my eyes as I could, hoping that the look I gave her scared her for life. I felt a never-ending hatred for her now. I wanted to torture her and kill her. I wanted to hear her die, screaming, begging for mercy.

"Well, right now, I'm putting an end to it. Do you know how long I've envied you? Always so much stronger then me, faulting it off, showing how much better you were…" she gritted her teeth. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wasn't going to say anything.

I heard helicopter wings close in. "Damn it!" Kitty cursed, looking for the source of the noise. It was loud now, booming in my ears. I could feel the wind it stirred. A single, small chopper appeared, coming over the top of the building. I smiled, hoping they were on my side.

I heard a the sound of a sniper rifle, shot but audible, and saw Kitty fall backwards, limp and blood oozing from a single hole in her head. I couldn't help but grin wildly. I had never felt so happy at seeing a person dead.

Now, let's just hope I'm not in the same situation.

I looked up at the the copter, which had now landed, and saw a single person step out. It was a masculine figure, with a lean, lithe body and powerful footsteps. The sound of combat boots hit the concrete. I finally got a look at the man as he walked closer. I saw endless dark green eyes that were hauntingly familiar, and shaggy sand-blond hair that looked soft. My hands ached, remembering the feel of that silky hair.

"Aydan Harte…" I heard a familiar Southern voice say. The biggest of beams crossed my face.

"Lane Trescott." I put my hands on my hips. The situation with Kitty was the same as him-both of us were bought at a young age, and we grew close. Lane had escaped one night when I was 14, which I was very distraught-as we had a 'thing'. "You bastard. How'd you know I was here?"

"Got a tip." His voice had lost some of it's Southern twang-it was still relaxed and unhurried, but it had the pronunciation of a Northerner. "We might want to get your friend here to a medic. I'll explain everything later." We picked up Simon and lunged him over to the chopper. "They'll be guards everywhere-we might be in for a fire-fight." He tilted his head towards the entrance.

"Good." I slammed my fist into my palm. "I'm ready to kill every asshole in this building." He gave a sly smirk.

"There's the Aydan I know and love. Let's go kick ass like we did when we were 14." He turned to a pilot. "Go a distance away, far from fire, but where you can still see us. Once it's cleared out, you need to come get us." He glanced at a medic who was working on Simon's leg. "Give him a sedative and aid as much as you can. We can get him to a hospital later." They nodded, knowing their orders. The helicopter flew away, leaving us with only our guns and will to kill. Lane threw me a SMG, keeping the sniper rifle for himself. "Good thing Kitty's dead. Always hated her-she had a good rack." He shrugged. "Not near as fine as you, though." He winked.

"Keep your head straight-we got plenty of people to take care of."

"Our fate is in our hands along with out guns. Let's go kill a few Kitty worshipers."

"Amen."

We burst in through the door, meeting about three guards at the stairs. We quickly took them out, and advanced through. It finally made sense when I wasn't running from Kitty-it was comprised of one flight of stairs running through the whole building. The rest of each floor was two narrow strips that had many doors, but few places to hide. After we descended the first flight, we searched every room. There was no one-we assumed they were all at the bottom floor, waiting for an all-out ambush. Oh well. Nothing we can't handle.

It was wonderful to be like this-mission in mind, gun in hand with enemies to kill. It was nice to do something as simple as this-we just had to take out all the guards. It was easy, objective, and required little thought. I didn't have to deal with sneaking around, getting information about someone, protecting this person, killing that person, seducing one guy, stealing one chick's money…it was nice to feel the power of having a gun in a situation you are sure to win.

We cleared out every floor, moving in a fluid motion, performing the dance of death perfectly. We had been trained to do so since we were just children, bred to be relentless killing machines. It was simple to us now; aim, shoot, kill, watered down by repetition. We were murderers, killers, unwanted shadows of society. We were the ones no one wanted yet all those rich and powerful seemed to need. We were the world's guilty pleasure, but there was none left for us. We had to take our happiness where we could. It might so grotesque, but I enjoyed killing, at least people who deserve it. I loved the feel of control that came with shooting an enemy in the chest, and enjoyed the rush of knowing that I'd put one dangerous person down. For jobs like these, we normally went against drug dealers, deal breakers, and other murderers. I slept well at night knowing I ended the life of someone who would have taken more.

"They've probably all grouped up here." I said as we waited outside the final door. We had our backs to it, as glass had taken place of walls. They probably saw us coming, but we weren't careless. I was ready to take them all on.

"Let's hope there just weren't many guns." He sighed.

"I hope there is. I've been needing a full-on battle for a long time." I smirked evilly.

"One day, that's going to catch up with you." He advised. "Besides, it's not like they're much challenge to kill."

"I'm not here for the challenge. I'm here for the kill." I took a deep breath. "Ready?" he nodded. I swung quickly, swinging the door open, and taking cover by the opening. A barrage of bullets met us. I waited for the fire to cease for one quick moment, and struck like lightning, stepping into the room, unleashing hell with a SMG, focusing less on aim or precision and more on hitting as many people as possible. A few pained grunts replied to my gunfire. I smiled, and scanning the room.

The bottom floor looked very much like a lobby, with carpeted floors, furniture, and even a chandelier. It would have looked like a high-class hotel, without the check-in desk. Maybe Kitty liked to give her prisoners false promises. The furniture supplied a decent amount of cover, though. The guards had already arranged themselves around it, aiming from behind couches and chairs, making a perfect half-circle around only way out.

"There's too many of them, Ay," he hissed. "There's more then 20."

"We can take them." I started to make for the men, ready to kill, but Lane pulled me back.

"No, Aydan. We can't." his voice demanded obedience. I sighed.

"Then what can we do?" She noticed the men were starting to move in, as anxious for the kill as they were. "Make it snappy. We don't have much time."

"Do you trust me?" he asked. I nodded. "Then distract them. It will be for only a few moments."

"Aye, aye, commander." My voice was thick with sarcasm as I jumped into the battle, lunging for a chair they didn't have a man behind, and shooting wildly. I loved the exhilaration I felt when I was in the line of fire like this, right in the middle of battle. Every bullet launched was in slow-motion. The sound of gunshots filled my ears, a sweet macabre music that had been stuck in my head. I was doing this for only about 30 blissful seconds before the harsh, high sound of breaking glass mixed with screams of the remaining men. I squeezed my eyes shut, and took cover, hiding behind a wall panel.

I gritted my teeth, and looked at the scene in front of me with grim satisfaction. Every man now lie dead, mainly due to the fact a helicopter had flown into the building.

"That was epic!" I heard Lane yell, racing down the stairs. Then he glanced at me and his eyes lit up. "And the helicopter thing was pretty badass too." He gave an evil smile.

I walked over the broken glass to the helicopter. A medic was still bent over Simon's body, hands moving lightning fast, eyes full of determination. The pilot looked extremely cocky.

"We're going to be stuck on this thing for a while, so we should get acquainted." Lane said. He still had the same Southern gentlemen demeanor as when he was 13."This is Ace," he glanced at the pilot, who shook brown hair from his equally dark eyes. "And Gavin," the pointed at the black-haired medic who held up the back of his hand in a quick greeting, but then returned back to his work. "It's going to be about three hours until we can get to a city. Never understood why we couldn't get towns in the Outback. Guess some of us are too squishy." He shrugged.

The beat of the wings was too loud for us too speak. Instead, I watched Gavin perform medical procedures on Simon. Simon was knocked out, but his leg didn't look too good.

"His shin is shattered. Nothing too serious-secondary infection is likely, but once we can get to a hospital they can take care of that. He'll be able to walk again, so don't worry about that." He yelled over the constant beat of the helicopter. We nodded, and fell into a comfortable silence.

I released a sigh of relief as we landed in a city past the mountain line that separated the livable space of Australia and the Outback. Gavin got him to a hospital (thankfully, it wasn't too far from the airport we landed at) and Lane and I took a cab to a hotel. It was hard to speak, however. Even though Kitty was a complete bitch, she was still the closest thing I had to a friend. She did try to kill me, but I felt a slight pang of regret. Apparently, it must have been written all over my face as I looked out the window. I felt Lane put his hand on my knee, not in a sexual way, but in an encouraging friend way.

"Kitty was doing things she shouldn't have. She deserved it." He was conscious of the taxi driver, making sure not to say too much.

"How did you…?" I narrowed my eyes.

"I've known you for seven years, Aydan. I can read your mind." I chuckled, and looked back out the window.

Lane decided to splurge and got three rooms in the Marriott-two doubles and one single. I told him Simon and I could share a bed, and we had been, but he insisted. I laid out on the bed, sighing in contentness. It was nice to think I was safe for a change. With Lane by my side, I was pretty sure I could conquer anything.

"Aydan, Kitty didn't just bring you there for revenge. There was a reason." He said. I sat up on my elbows. "It…isn't good. There is a lot going on that you don't know."

"And that is?"

"Well…first of all, Kitty was being controlled by Ken Castle's daughter."


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, thankfully, I've gotten most of the school stuff I've needed to do out of the way-yay, I get to spend hours writing again! :D**

**www. youtube. com/watch?v=fsIQZVmKZKU&feature=related**

**

* * *

**

"What?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yep. Ken Castle's daughter, Sandra is pissed." He released a sigh. "I'll start at the beginning. We both know Ken Castle was some level of insane, right? I mean, controlling people and releasing it as a video game is a psychotic. His daughter, whom I've had the 'pleasure' of meeting her. She is a little…" he searched for the right word. "I would say insane, but that word alone isn't enough. Not like 'screaming-at-dust-bunnies' crazy, but it's not something subtle. Her father had those nano-thingys in her. He can control her completely, and yet, somehow in death, he's still controlling her."

"Again…what?"

"It seems as if she's trying to avenge his death. She plans on killing all those responsible for her father's death and bringing 'Society' and 'Slayers.' Only, she acts like a robot. She set all of this up."

"What up?" He was still making no sense.

"There's more to this then you know. The government is scrambling to get this technology, willing to get it at any cost. There's people after you, Aydan. Trained professionals, government agents, fanatics, lunatics, and God knows what else. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they build a nuclear missile-a small one, but still, a missile." He shrugged. "Kitty was being controlled by Sandra Castle. And Sandra Castle is being controlled by Ken Castle."

"But how is that possible?"

"He might be dead, but what he left behind lives on. Aydan, I've been finding this information solely for your sake-I've been tracking you, tracking them, and tracking every person you've associated with." If I had been a normal, teenage girl, I would call this 'stalking' but in my life, I called it 'having my back.' If all of this was true, then he was probably protecting me for longer then I've had the job.

I walked forward, and hugged him closely. A honest-to-God, pure smile crossed my face. It had been a long time since I've been able to both hold someone and be held. It felt safe with him, a feeling me, and all humans need.

"So, this is no longer about keeping Simon safe. It's about getting rid of these assholes." I slammed my fist into my palm. "Great. We'll teach Simon how to use a gun, track down these people, and kill them. I get my money after all threats to him are eliminated, and then I'll leave the biz forever, all ties cut."

"Sounds like a plan." He gave a smirk. "Let's wash up and grab something to eat. We'll catch up then-it's been years since I've last talked to you, and I mean really talked. Not about all this serious people-trying-to-kill-you shit."

"Good idea." I quickly got in the shower, wiping away all the blood and grime, and letting the hot water relax my muscles. After drying my hair, I slipped into my now ripped and blood-stained black spandex leggings and cotton black shirt. When I stepped out, Lane looked at me and scoffed.

"You look like you just went on a killing spree." He chuckled.

"I did."

"We'll get you some new clothes. Also, we got a call from the hospital. Simon will be out tomorrow, 8 o'clock sharp."

"Good. We'll pick him up, head back over to the 'states, and hunt down this mother fuckers." He laughed.

"You haven't changed a bit, Aydan. Well, except for a few places, but…" he gave an evil grin.

"And you've been observing?"

"In fact, I have." He winked, and we left the hotel room.

We ended up at a Target, which, though not the best place to buy clothes, was the cheapest. Normally, I wouldn't worry about money, but Lane isn't getting any money from this job, unless I split with him, which I probably will. Right now, however, I wasn't too picky. Anything clean and easy to work in is perfect for me.

"How about this?" Lane said, holding up a lacy bra. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"You are strange, Lane. One minute you're Mr. Southern Gentlemen, then you're the pervert of Australia." I ended up getting a few simple black camisoles, black leggings, and a black jacket.

"You like black, don't you?" he tilted his head to the side while we were paying.

"Gets the job done." I shrugged.

Afterwards, we went to a nice little Italian place-not some big, fancy thing, but just a small place that contained a only a few tables and two person working.

"What have you been doing all these years?" Lane asked.

"Working." I was going to be very vague. One of the reasons I've survived so long is from not revealing any information. "I've been moving from here to there-don't really have a home, though. I live in hotels, pretty much."

"There has to be more to it then that." He grabbed my hand. "You're beautiful, and you'rer telling me you didn't have boyfriends, or at least brought home a few guys?"

"Well, yeah. Of course. But I didn't find that important enough to talk about." I admitted, squirming uncomfortably. "And what about you?"

"I? I've been doing the same as you until recently. Once I heard about Ken, I had to dig around for a little while to figure out what truly happened." That was as far as he was willing to go in public. "What about Simon? Do you recall think we should take him with us?"

"Jealous?" I chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll whip him into shape."

"Well, it's just we're supposed to look out for him. Bringing him into this situation is pretty much the opposite."

"Don't worry. I'll protect him." We chattered aimlessly for a while, ate, and then returned to the hotel room. We met with Ace and Gavin in Lane and I's room at about 8 or so. They gave me the de-briefing-apparently, they've been running around the Earth, following me and getting information, though it wasn't easy as they. They had to beat it out of some people-had to fight their way through underground bunkers, mind-controlled lunatics, and all sorts of bullshit.

They were in as much trouble as I. If their names got out, There would be more people willing to kill them then people who wanted to kill Hitler. That was actually Ace's words-obviously a hyperbole, but probably not too far from the truth.

"They call themselves the Gecko group." Gavin informed us, at which I raised an eyebrow.

"The Gecko Group?" I scoffed.

"The only conclusion I can come to it they think they're 'insuring' America's welfare. Think about it-insurance…Geico? The Geico Gecko?"

"That…is weird." I shook my head in shock. "Why that, though?"

"So anyone who looked in from the outside would think that they work for Geico." Ace shrugged. "We never said it wasn't stupid, only that they chose it. Keep in mind, they're insane."

"Great." Lane sighed. "Once I start killing them, I'll think of those cute little geckos and hesitate."

"They aren't _cute._ They're _reptiles_. There's no cute reptiles." I said.

"Well, according to Ms. Shooty-Shooty-Kill." Gavin retorted. I don't know if he was being snide or funny. Both, possibly? I hope so, 'cuz I laughed at it.

"Our goal is to kill Sandra Castle and her army of geckos." I concluded. "Sounds easy enough. Do we know where their base is?"

"In the middle of a desert. In Death Valley." Gavin grumbled.

"Ah! I've had enough of deserts!" I reached out and punched the table. Before my mother sold me, she taught me that physical release is the best kind of release. Better to give someone a bruise or two then to emotionally scar them for life.

"What did the table ever do you?" Ace laughed. "I think I like her."

"If you keep it up, next time I'll punch _you _instead of the table." I growled. Not in the mood now. I was a few minutes ago when I didn't know all this shit is going on, but now, I was in the killing mode.

"We should probably get some rest." Lane advised. "We have a long day tomorrow-we have two options, however."

"And those are?"

"Ditch the stolen helicopter and get on a plane, or fly all the way to the U.S in a cramped little chopper." Ace explained. "We could get busted for the stolen 'copter, and, of course, they would want our names, but we're just as vulnerable on the plane." Just as he said this, Lane turned the TV on. And, as if a sign, on the news, there was a report of a stolen helicopter.

"Guess we're taking the plane." I smirked. "As long as there's no snakes."

"Do you have some fear of reptiles?" Gavin asked.

"I don't _fear _them. I had a _strong dislike _for them. I fear nothing." I answered.

"We'll see about that."

I was glad when they left. I already didn't like Gavin, and I didn't feel trust for Ace.

"He's kind of an asshole." I told Lane when he asked.

"I know what you mean. He's a smart ass, but I needed someone as a medic. You see this?" He rolled up the sleeve on his arm to show a display of scars. "Got carved up while looking for you."

"Ouch." He just shrugged, and rolled it back down.

"You know, I just realized how much I missed you. I mean, with that crazy dude raising us and Kitty, you were the only normal thing I had." He admitted.

"I'm far from normal."

"More so then Namir." He smiled. "Remember when we snuck off that one night after we killed that one dude? The government guy, the one who beat our client in a seat for the House of Representatives. His wife wasn't too happy about that." I laughed in remembrance.

"Yeah. She came at us with a wooden spoon." I smiled at the memory. Apparently, she remembered our faces and tracked us down. We were walking around that small town late at night, and there's this old lady yelling 'You naughty little children!' and swiping at us with kitchen appliances. We didn't killed the poor woman, just knocked her out and left to make out behind a Wal Mart. Heh. Good times. "What made you remember that?"

"Your eyes had that sparkle they do now. The one that you get when you feel evil."

"Oh really?" I narrowed my eyes. "And how am I feeling 'evil'?" He sat down on the edge of my bed.

"I can think a few things." And suddenly, I was back to being 13 again, when we knew of the approaching darkness of our future lives, but our minds were too bright to care, when we didn't think about the fact that we were killing machines and we didn't murder our friends, when those we loved was more important then getting the job done.

When we didn't think about sex, or drugs, or money, or alcohol; when life was so much easier due to the fact that we didn't think any of that effected us. We weren't worried about the world around us, and all I cared about was how cute his eyes were. When, I knew that soon I'd have to deal with life, real adult life, but in those precious moments of innocence and ignorant bliss, I didn't really care.

Feelings I hadn't felt in years, feelings of familiarity and comfort, came back to me. I imagined those were the feelings you get when you hug your mother-a sense of safety and warmth that made you think that somehow, by some miracle, everything would be ok. There was an edge to it though-this was Lane, not my mother, and we weren't children anymore.

Looking into his eyes was like remembering a deeply-rooted, almost forgotten feeling. You know it felt great, and loved every moment of it, and you can recall the emotions you felt, but you couldn't _feel _them again.

And that was all it remained. A memory.

I could faintly remember what was a tingly feeling whenever he touched me-my skin would crawl pleasurably-and sent pleasant electric waves through me, and I remember it feeling so _wonderful_, and I desperately wanted to feel that again, but I couldn't make it come back.

I don't think I ever could.

But I still hoped, and that's why when he pressed his lips to mine, I didn't object.

I've had sex before-a few times in order to get information out of someone, but other then that, nothing. It wasn't very pleasant-painful, actually. After my first time, when I was only 16, and had to sleep with some sleaze-bag in order to reach my client, who was being held hostage by drug dealers, I've been turned off it. I assumed it would always hurt.

But after seeing all the romance movies and novels, I guess it can't be too bad, you know, if the guy isn't some sex-hungry drug-addict.

"Aydan?" he asked, stroking my cheek. "I've really missed you. I mean, I know we were only 13, but you were so much better to me then all the other bitches I've tried to care about. It never turned out too well." I chuckled.

"I wonder if it was you or your 'job'?" I asked. He adjusted himself so he was sitting right next to me, arm around my waist, pulling me close.

"I think it was both. They heard how I was a 'mercenary' or some shit like that, and they expected some bad ass." He shrugged. "Eh. They were still teenage girls-hardly 17, some of them."

"And you're not a bad ass?"

"Not really." He laughed. "In my own way, I guess. I've actually become sort of a geek-I've learned a lot of computer hacking."

"Hey, geeks are cool. I went to high school for about half a year to track down some guy that killed so-and-so. I, somehow, got labeled as geek."

"You? I'm surprised those high school boys weren't drooling all over you."

"Well, they were, but they were too worried about what would happen to their status if they slept with a 'geek.' They might not keep their cheerleader girlfriends." I rolled my eyes. "Oh well. I was there for a semester and hated it. I don't know how they stand four years of it."

"And how did we get on this subject?" he narrowed his eyebrows.

"To tell you the truth, I have no idea." We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment. I saw Lane bite his lip with nervousness. Deep down, Lane was shy, or, at least, afraid of rejection.

Annoyed with the awkward moment, I encased Lane's lips with an intensity I didn't know I had. I might not feel all the things I felt when I was 13, but, damn it, I wanted to kiss someone. In my lifetime, I've only kissed one man (willingly) and that score was unacceptable.

I felt his hands glide around my waist, pulling my even closer, pressing me against him. With unfaltering courage, I pulled off his shirt, running my hands over the perfectly muscled chest that he hid under baggy clothes. He released a groan, at which I smiled at. He rolled so her hovered on top of me, and nipped at my neck. My breathing hastened.

He could tell, because he advanced, callused hands sliding up the back of my shirt. I had forgotten how _good _it felt to be held like this.

But I wanted more.

And before I was about to get that, the phone ringed.

Lane released a discontented groan, much unlike the sexy, pleasured one he had earlier, and answered.

"Hello?" he grumbled. "Oh. Ok. We'll be there in 10." He slammed the phone down and turned to me. "Simon's awake. He'll be released tomorrow, but we can see him."

"That's great." I said, turning the lamp on. "Don't worry-we can continue this later." I straightened my hair, and made sure I didn't look like I was just rolling around in bed with Lane. I mean, right before all of this shit happened, I was lying in bed with him too, with his kissing my neck.

Within a few minutes, we were back at the hospital, waiting outside Simon's room. The door was closed, and if they were currently pulling a piece of splinted bone out from his skin, I didn't want to see that.

But, the nurse opened the door, and told us we can see him.

And I stopped at the sight of Simon.

He looked extremely pale in the sterile white. He actually looked _sick_, though I suppose everyone looks sick when they're in hospital clothing: when all color is drained from their face: when they look so helpless in that bed with all those wires hooked up to them. He looked unreal, and…shaken. It was the first time when he really looked off-balance. Sure, in other situations, he had been panicked, but he had this fire inside him, this never-ending emotion that never went out. But now, it looked as if he'd lost that.

With my lips pressed together in a narrow line, I walked forward and met his eyes. Inside, I imagined him angry at me, yelling, screaming, hating me. I knew this wasn't true-I mean, HE wouldn't be angry at ME for HIM jumping in front of ME to save ME. Still, I had developed a sort of…care for him. I would be hurt if he were angry with me.

I expected a disappointed glare. What I got was a smile.

"You're alive." I smiled weakly. "I…don't know how to thank you." He smirked.

"I can think of a few ways." I rolled my eyes and laughed.

"I should have known that even on what could have been your death bed that you would _still _be the biggest pervert I've ever met." I sighed. "Really, Simon. Thank you. I…" I felt tears gather in my eyes.

Wow.

Was I crying? When was the last time I cried? When I was being dragged away from my mother? I had trained myself to not cry. I never found the point-I thought it was a useless show of emotions that can be used in either childish or manipulative temper tantrums, but now, I know why people cried; when they couldn't express their emotions in any others way, when no words could really describe what you felt.

"Hey, don't cry." He said, leaned up to look me straight in the face. I bit down on my lip for a moment, and regained myself.

"Why did you do it anyway?" I asked, my voice unsteady.

"You've saved my life before, and I didn't make as big of a deal about it." He shrugged.

"Yea, but I wasn't taken to the hospital."

"You almost had to. And besides, I thought you didn't care about me-why care why I would repay a favor?"

"Ouch." That came from Lane, who had remained silent until now. I released a long sigh.

"You think I don't care about you?" I narrowed my eyebrows. "Would I cry over someone I don't care about?"

"Well, I wouldn't know. Would Lane know?"

"Oh, Lord!" I hissed. Now I get it. "Damn testosterone…" My hands flew above my head as I walked to the door.

"You're welcome!" Simon yelled sarcastically.

"Thanks." I whispered, inflicting as much anger as I could with my tone before stomping out, and slamming the door behind me.

After a long taxi ride back to the hotel, I still wasn't speaking. I had figured out why he was acting like such a jerk-because of Lane. Could he tell…? Did he hear…?

I gritted my teeth and tried to stop thinking about it, as it would only make me angrier, but I couldn't stop the feelings of anger and betrayal. I cried over him. I don't cry over anything.

"Aydan, please…" he sighed as we entered the hotel room. "Will you please tell me what the hell just happened?"

"Simon's a typical male-possessive and thinks the world operates with a hierarchy system." I hissed. "He got pissed because I was standing the same room with you."

"Ever think maybe he did that because he cared about you? I mean, he probably saved your life. I saw where that bullet was heading, and it was _not _towards your shins." He narrowed his eyes. I sighed.

"God damn it, why are you always the one's that's right?" I collapsed on the bed. "I fucked up."

"Look, you can apologize tomorrow. He'll understand." He sat next to me and let me lean on his chest. "He can't be a total dick-he knows that humans make mistakes, and you're kind of new in the relationship business…" I groaned, and closed my eyes.

"No. I'm apologizing now." I said stubbornly before walking out the door.

* * *

**Wow, long one. Feels like I dragged it out too much. If I added less, it would be too short, if I added more, it would be too long…. Oh, well.**

**-Hannah **


	8. Chapter 8

**www. youtube .com/ watch?v=uuRSMXEZyUg&feature=related**

* * *

Of course, it started to rain. It felt like an omen.

I silently cursed myself for not grabbing a jacket. The rain left me shivering and drenched, but I trekked through it to the hospital, that, though in walking distance, was a pretty long walk.

I released a sigh of relief when I reached the hospital. Of course, at this hour, only family was allowed in, which meant I had to take a different route. The hospital was relatively small, only about two stories high. The bottom floor was where Simon was, in Room 14.

I guess the rain would help after all.

Carefully hidden in the blackness, I scanned each window for Simon. It was a vulnerable position, as anyone driving down the road would surely see me, but I'd doubt that anyone would do anything about it.

Hmm. I felt a pang of sadness. Well, not sadness, but rather…shame. I looked through these windows for one specific person, over-looking the patients in the beds, hooked up to numerous wires. What were they suffering? Those I overlook, may be the life of some other person. Just how many people had I overlooked in my lifetime?

Too many.

I took a deep breath, and focused on what I was supposed to be doing. Right now, stopping the Geckos was more important then any of their lives, which, though sickening, is true.

Eurkea! Simon. I found him-he looked awake, restless even. He didn't even notice me.

Damn. There's someone else in there with him-another patient; an old, balding guy that looked extremely frail.

Double damn; (where the hell did that come from?) the window's locked.

Ok, decision time. Either knock on the window, and risk the old dude waking up, but get Simon to open it, or pick the lock and risk any alarm system they have (which they probably have) going off.

I'll knock on the window. Maybe the old dude's down under.

So, I knocked, and of course Simon noticed, but the old guy bolted awake. Shit.

I jumped out of the way, moving with carefully honed reflexes. Simon walked over to the window, and opened up, after giving the old man a cautious glance. He was asleep again.

"What the hell?" he muttered softly.

"I'm climbing in through the window of a hospital." I explained, pulling myself through the narrow window. "Shh. You'll wake the old dude."

"His name's Bob." Something about that was kind of funny; I think it was the way he said it. I chuckled slightly.

"Original name…" I slipped a glance in 'Bob's' direction. He looked sound asleep.

"So, why'd you trek through the rain?" he raised an eyebrow. "Miss me?"

"I wanted to apologize for earlier." I whispered. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I can be impulsive. Sue me."

"What is there to say your sorry for?" he beckoned me to sit down on the small hospital bed.

"I was kind of a bitch earlier. I mean, you saved my life…" Shit, am I blushing? "And I was just unfair. I thought you were jealous of Lane…but then I realized that there's nothing for you to be jealous over. You didn't know anything about him or our past…" I looked at my feet, knowing it would make me seem vulnerable, but that's how I felt at that moment. "And, Simon…I do care about you." I put my hand on his knee, feeling a smile on my face.

A surge of heat went through me as he placed his hand on my cheek, and turned me to face him.

And then we just…kissed.

Shockingly, he didn't try to grope me or take off my shirt. He just kissed me.

Aww. Sweet.

"Hey! HEY!" Bob yelled. "What are you kids doin'? I'm not sitting in a hospital to watch two kids make out! Nurse! NURSE!"

"Shit!" I cursed, quickly leaping up and striking out at his temples. He immediately fell limp.

"Holy shit…" Simon cursed, eyes wide with astonishment. "You _have _to teach me how to do that."

"When you get out of this damn hospital, I'll teach you everything I know." I said while flexing my fingers. "The sooner the better…" My eyes shot to the phone, and an idea creeped into my mind. "_Uno segundo," _I told Simon as I picked up the phone.

I called the hotel, and had them patch me through to Lane's room. "Hey, Lane, when are we leaving the city? I'm gonna try to get Simon out, and I want him to be no where to be found by the time they start looking."

"We were gonna leave at six, but we can leave a bit earlier…four ok? I don't want a sleep-depraved pilot…"

"Perfect. See ya soon." I slammed the phone door, and locked it. If they need to, they can call a locksmith or something in the morning, and opened the window. "Let's get out of here." I commanded.

"Good. I'm sick of this place."

So we climbed out the window, and ran down the street out of the sight of the hospital. It was still pouring rain, and Simon looked extremely uncomfortable in the hospital garb.

"Please tell me there's clothes at the hotel."

"You can borrow some of Lane's clothes. Come on-we should stick to the side streets." I knew it might not have been the best idea to go down alleys in the middle of the night in a city, but I could probably kill anyone that even threatens us and make it look like self-defense.

Once we reached the hotel door, we met our first real obstacle. The man standing at the desk.

"I'll distract him, you slip in and get into the elevator." I told him.

"How are you going to distract him?"

"You'll see…" I walked up to the front desk, currently aware that, though I had a lack of makeup, I was soaking wet-you could practically see through my shirt. Plus, he looked barely over 18. This should be easy.

He looks like the type to like a ditsy blond. This will be _extremely _easy.

"Does it always rain so, like, quickly here?" I asked in my best bubblegum, silently cringing at it. I knew that even though he seems like a total pervert, I couldn't keep him attention completely focused on me. I had to get his guard down.

"Yeah, it does, best when the sun comes out, it's beautiful. It's sort of like you." He said with a leer. I gave a fake giggle.

"You're so sweet! It makes me almost regret this." I struck out at his temple, and he collapsed. New record-knock someone out the same way twice in one day. People wonder why I love my work. "Almost." Simon ran over, and I expected him to be shocked, but I think I've already shocked him beyond shocking anymore. He expects it out of me now.

"Let's go." I said, racing to the elevator, and rapidly pressing the buttons, holding my breath as we went up. If anyone saw Simon in a hospital garb, they'd know something was up, and I'd have to either knock them out of risk them calling the police. I've already knocked out two people, and I shouldn't draw more attention to myself.

I knocked on my door softly, and Lane opened it with a relieved sigh.

"Good. You're here. You might want to see this." He turned the TV on.

"Another conveniently timed News Report?" I asked sarcastically. "What's it about?"

"Listen." I threw Simon some clothes, and sat down in front of the TV.

"_The police have gotten a report about a group of people that are believed to be terrorists. The concerned proprietor of a business that called in says 'they are trying to harm their business.' Even though their names have not been discovered, police have pictures of all five suspects." _And there on the TV, was the pictures of me, Lane, Ace, Gavin, and Simon.

"Guess we should get out of the city pretty quickly." I smirked. "The helicopter will probably draw too much attention. Besides, if this just came out now, no one will really be looking. We should get on a plane, and go."

"You're right. We'll head back to the 'States, and then we'll plan there." He agreed. Ace and Gavin walked in at that moment.

"You see the news?" Ace asked. Lane nodded.

"We need to get out of the city as soon as we can. Pack your bags." He commanded.

"Please tell me we have money." Ace pleaded.

"Aydan has plenty. Don't worry-we won't need to steal this time." Lane chuckled.

"Do I even want to know what you've been doing before this?" I asked.

"No. You really don't."

We moved like lightning as we packed, and we walked to the airport. We couldn't spare any more money on taxi fares.

"Good news and bad news." Gavin said. "There's a flight straight to the US, and it's departing at 6 in the morning. We can wait until then-it's about 3 right now. Bad news it…well, passports."

"Damn. I forgot about those." I cursed. "I know a guy that can make fake ones, but by the time he gets them, the police will have informed everyone-especially the airports-about us. However, the same guy can smuggle us out of the country, too. And he owes me."

"Good. Get in touch with him, and see how early he can get us out of here." Lane commanded. "We should get out of this hotel, though. It's not safe here anymore."

"Good idea." Ace nodded.

"Pack lightly, and take only what you can carry-everything else, leave, as long as it doesn't give the police any leads."

"Won't they just use fingerprints?" Simon asked.

"For you, they will. But for us, we're not even in the government's system-we came here illegally, and we're still illegal. They have no records on us, and we change our names often. You, however…they'll know who you are." I explained.

"Maybe we can say he's a hostage." Lane suggested. I restrained a laugh.

"No, then we'll have both the police swarming us, _and _hired forces from his father on us. If he could afford to hire me to protect him, then he can afford to hire more people to kill me."

"I say we burn everything." Simon suggested.

"That's impossible-we've touched everything in this room." Gavin sighed. "Unless…we burn down the hotel?"

"No." Ace hissed. "There's too many people in here. Someone'll call 911 when they see the fire. Besides, the people in here haven't done anything wrong. They're innocents."

"Yeah. And we don't need to break _too _many laws." Gavin shrugged.

"Then why don't we just leave?" Lane suggested. "They're already after us; they can't be _more _after us."

"You're right, but it goes against everything I've been trained to do." I sighed. It was at that moment, I realized that this mission, quest, journey…thing…might take my life. And for once, I was _not _ok with that. Before, death seemed like nothing to be because I had little to live for. Is it not the same now?

It better be. I'll force myself to make it be the same as before.

"We need to leave. Now." I commanded while rushing to pack. The thoughts of death gnawing at my mind pushed me along faster.

I finished first, carrying a small bag that contained very few items. I decided that I could buy a hairbrush, toothbrush, and all the other stuff when we were back in the US; I brought only money, a guns, a few knives, First Aid stuff and pain killers. If we get in a fight, I don't want us limping around with broken legs or bleeding out.

"What? Not taking necessities?" Lane asked.

"I can buy new ones when we get to the US." I explained, laying back on the bed.

"You have plenty of room, Aydan." He sighed. "Go ahead and take it. It's not like you're smuggling Simon through that bag." I chuckled at that. "And besides, it can be used as evidence against us."

"Then we throw it away." I shrugged. "I'm not that materialistic."

"I forgot how annoying you can be." He laughed, sitting down next me, sliding his arm around my waist. "I promise, when we get to the US, I'll buy you $100 perfume, and you are _never _leaving it behind."

"Can you really imagine me wearing perfume?" I asked. I never made an effort to 'smell good.' I mean, I didn't let myself smell bad, expect in those moments when I'm killing people and I drenched and sweat and blood and can't help it, but I always wear deodorant (unscented) and wash myself. I still never smelled 'good' per se, as I found it rather useless, considering that my career includes killing, and it's kind of hard to kill a man and still smell like roses.

"I'll force you to." He smirked.

"Just try it." I threatened.

"Oh, I plan to use force on you on more then just perfume." After ignoring the little ripple of excitement, I decided that we needed to get going.

I gathered everyone together, telling them they had 30 seconds left, and if they weren't ready, they'd be left behind. Downstairs, the man was still passed out-shockingly. I mean, we were only up there for about five minutes, but still…

It struck me as we were leaving that in a movie or a book, we would have gotten captured by police or worse. It's true-in entertainment, that would make a much better story. However, I was glad that we got away scot-free.

We were to meet our 'friend' just outside the city, which, thankfully, we got to. The plane was decent-sized-big enough of all us, but there was little breathing room. It wasn't a passenger plane-it was small and cramped and shook often.

I didn't feel safe until we landed in the US, on one of pristine Maine beaches. We found a little town close to it. If was off-season-right in the middle of Fall, but that would make it better; less people to worry about.

It seemed to be a vacation town, so there was a nice motel that had plenty of room for us. Of course, people wondered why we were there and where the hell we came from (I contemplated telling them we're mer-people that grew legs) but that's the glory of the US-you can say 'none of your damn business!' and they would have to leave you alone.

The motel room, covered with oceanic decorations, was large and roomy, and even smelled of the sea. I had only been to Maine on a few occasions, but there was a certain…calm to it that most of the world had lost.

We decided that we would stay there for a few days, and continue our pursuit of the 'Geckos' which would probably prove difficult, but we plotted for a while, and the plan was set right in front of us.

It was all so simple. The path was laid, and it was all ready. _I _was ready.

Until I was faced with the reality and horror of social life.


End file.
